Purpose
by haraamis
Summary: The Eve Wars are over, and people are celebrating the new peace. But not everyone has reason to celebrate. Wufei centric, no pairings.


Title: Purpose

Archive: Anne's site: Gundanium Line

http/dryerspace. PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: Angst, Wufei POV

Spoilers: um...yeah, I guess Endless Waltz.

Disclaimers: No, no, and no, I don't own them, although I would if I could, that's for sure.

Notes: This is a Wufei centric ficlet, reflecting how he spends the hours right after the end of the Eve Wars.

Summary: The Eve Wars are over, and people are celebrating the new peace. But not everyone has reason to celebrate.

Purpose

He stood there, unmoving in the biting cold, leaning against Nataku. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. He was indifferently observing the people around him who, happy and alive, were caught up in the bliss of victory.

He wasn't in the mood for celebrating. He wasn't in the mood for anything. There was nothing left inside him. The rush of battle had subsided, leaving him calm and cold. His heartbeat had slowed down; he could hardly feel it

anymore.

He was an empty shell, burnt out, and ready to be discarded. He was a product of war, and there was no need for him in this new peace. There was no room for soldiers, no purpose for those who knew nothing else but how to fight.

No one was waiting for him. He didn't have a place to go back to, unlike all those people around him who were now streaming toward the yellow and orange light that was falling from windows and doors, inviting them into the warmth of a home.

Rain fell, cold and heavy, tinting the world in gray and diffusion, marring forms and shapes, as if to conceal what had happened.

Wufei closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold, but familiar metal of his only companion, the last anchor he had to who he was. But Nataku was just as unnecessary now as its pilot.

Now would be the right time to vanish, to relieve this world, which had no place for him, of his presence.

Fade into nothingness.

There wouldn't be anyone to miss him. He'd never had a lot of friends to begin with, and his choice of sides in this battle had certainly rid him of the few he'd had.

He didn't care. He was numb, numb like his limbs because of the icy wind and rain.

He remained there, motionless and losing track of time.

It didn't matter.

He was too apathetic to be startled when he felt a soft tug at his pants. Slowly opening his eyes, he gazed down and met two incredibly blue, large eyes, shining in the dimness, reflecting the light of a distant street lamp.

There was no fear in those eyes, but they were filled with the pure and innocent curiosity and the unconditional trust of a child. Damp blonde locks framed the heart shaped face, and the cheeks were reddened from the cold.

The little girl was probably four or five years old.

"Are you a Gundam pilot?" she inquired, tugging at his pants again.

He stared at her and simply nodded.

"So, you fought for peace." This time, it wasn't a question, but the statement of a child who was proud of being able to come to such an important conclusion.

Wufei was still at a loss for words, so he settled for nodding again, having sensed that the girl was waiting for confirmation.

"What's your name?"

He hesitated. He didn't like giving his name to strangers. He knew that the feeling was unreasonable; it was just a little girl. However, she didn't give him the time to ponder.

"Have you lost your voice?"

She was blunt. He didn't really feel like smiling, but there was nevertheless the tiniest tug at the corners of his mouth. He didn't give in

to it, though.

He silently looked down at the girl; she met his gaze levelly, tilting her head slightly to the side, and patiently waiting for an answer.

Wufei suddenly felt humbled, and it didn't seem appropriate for him to be standing up and looking down at the child in front of him. Slowly, he stretched his stiff limbs and then crouched down onto his heels, so that his face was on the same level as the girl's.

He regarded her calmly for a moment, and then lowered his eyes. Again, the smile threatened to curve his lips, but he still wouldn't let it happen.

"No, I can talk. And my name is Wufei."

He looked up, just in time to see a little sun rise. The girl's face was lit by a broad smile. Then she took a deep breath, and he somehow knew that what was about to come had to be something very important to her.

There was something about this girl that started to thaw the ice inside him. He didn't want to disappoint her, and thus looked at her expectantly, giving her his full attention.

"My grandpa said that the Gundam pilots have fought for peace, and that peace is here now. And that they fought, risking their own lives. He said that this is why we have to say thank you to them. You're the only Gundam pilot I've met. Can I say thank you to you?"

The words had come out like a waterfall, drenching him, finding their way under his skin. Those words, honest, innocent, and without falseness. He didn't deserve them, did he? Yes, he had brought peace in the very end, he had done the right thing, but at what cost? Did the way matter, or was the only thing that counted the result? Was he worthy of the thanks of this child?

His voice was a little hoarse when he finally answered. "If you want to, yes. But there are many people who have done much more than I have."

Her little face was totally serious. "But they are not here now. I can't say thank you if they are not here."

Wufei slowly shook his head. "No, they are not here now."

Cocking her head, she looked at him questioningly. "Then, where are they? Are they where my parents are?"

He felt a sting in his gut. Her parents were not with her? "Where are your parents? Are you not staying with them?"

She shook her head, blonde locks flying through the air. "No. I'm just here with my grandpa. Grandpa says that Mom and Dad are somewhere good now, where all the heroes are celebrated. And that they can't be with me anymore, but that they see me from there, and that I have to be a good girl so that they are happy."

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. There was a little girl who most likely had lost her parents to the war; maybe it had even been one of the Gundams that had killed them. And yet, she wanted to thank him. She didn't blame him, but trusted him. Even though it probably was the naïve trust of a child who didn't know better, it still touched him, humbled him. He hadn't thought that he would feel any emotion ever again. All anger had vanished. He hadn't quarreled with his fate. He had just let resignation take over.

Suddenly, he felt a small, warm, and chubby hand at his cheek. He looked up and found himself staring into concerned blue eyes.

"Are you sad?"

Was he sad? He didn't know. He didn't remember sadness.

"Maybe... a little. But it will be over in a moment."

"Grandpa says that too when I'm sad. Can I say thank you now?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

He had hardly spoken, when he found his arms full of a tiny, warm body, smelling of rain, soap, and child. He nearly tipped over and only managed to keep his balance by bringing his arms around the little girl, holding her tight. She wrapped her short arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest for a moment then squirmed out of his embrace again.

Another smile brightened her face.

"Thank you for bringing us peace. Don't be sad anymore."

Again, she looked at him with this unrestricted trust, and this time, he

didn't fight the smile tugging at his lips but let it spread over his features. It felt good.

However, before he could answer, the little girl turned her head, listening briefly, before smiling up at him again.

"I have to go home now; Grandpa is calling me. Are you going home, too?"

Home... maybe he would find a home again one day. But he knew now what he had to do until that day came.

He also smiled again. It really did feel good.

"No. I'm going to protect peace."

"I want to do that, too, when I'm grown up. Maybe I will see you then."

"Maybe, yes."

She waved at him quickly, and then she was gone. He watched her little form until it disappeared through a door, which was shut after her.

He turned his face toward the sky and closed his eyes. He'd been wrong. There was a purpose for him in this world. Peace was still fragile and

needed protection. Like the little girl.

The rain had turned into snow. Soft flakes fell onto his face, gently melting on his skin and mixing with tears of relief.

Yes, he could do that.

End


End file.
